


It's All About Delivery

by grandin



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: M/M, Post MGS1, pre Tanker Incident - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 18:52:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17648042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grandin/pseuds/grandin
Summary: As if Snake's cheesy lines work. ...Right?





	It's All About Delivery

**Author's Note:**

> This is super short and I was going to add more but I didn't know what so. If you got any ideas shoot 'em at me? Otherwise. Have this.

Otacon had a specific perception of Solid Snake: that he was untouchable, a stone fortress of idealized masculinity. The Most Interesting Man Alive, who could stitch himself together with one hand and flirt with the cute nurse at his other. That Snake was suave and put together at all times, and knew what he was doing. That he was a hero in every mystical sense of the word.

 

He  _ was _ a hero. But he was so painfully human, too.

 

It was all horseshit, Otacon’s impressions. (He never claimed to be a people person, or exceptionally good at reading others. Christ, he didn't think they’d use Rex for war.) Snake--David wasn't a boarded off stronghold, he was reserved with his emotions but he wasn't afraid of them, and he was  _ nice _ . 

 

David was like his house; a warm, hand built cabin in the middle of an isolated tundra, where the doors were locked for paranoia’s sake but Otacon was welcomed. 

 

They weren't in Alaska anymore, though. A good thousand miles south and to the right, holed up and isolated in the woods somewhere south of Idaho instead. Settled in, wifi strung up on a private, protected line the moment they had their things on the floor. Power came next. Snake fought with the generator until the bare bulbs finally winked on, and then had a beer on the ratty little couch provided to them in the living room. On the floor next to him, Otacon was hunched over his computer, but sat up and took the cold beer Snake handed to him with a look of distaste.

 

“Is there anything else?”

 

Snake shrugged. “Water,”

 

Otacon grumbled, took a swig with a wince. The taste was becoming less revolting the more he drank it, but he still didn't like it. Never did. But it was something.

 

In the corner of Otacon’s eye, he saw Snake hide a twitch of a smile with a sip of beer.

 

“Oh shut up,” Otacon said, wrapping both hands around his bottle and bitterly resting his teeth against the glass lip. Snake snorted.

 

“Didn’t say anything,”

 

“You don't have to,”

 

Snake nodded, but didn't give a response to it. His amused aura said enough. “Anything from Mei Ling?”

 

“Not yet,” Otacon said, leaning back against the couch. Snake bent over so that his arms rested against his knees, closer, way closer, and from this proximity, Otacon could smell the woods and dirt and oil on him. It was a good scent. He turned away, embarrassed. “You're not in contact with her? I thought you guys were, uh. A thing.” He was so grateful for having something in his hands; the taste of shitty beer was distracting, too.

 

“Mei Ling?” Snake’s brows shot up an inch, and that was new. It wasn't often Otacon caught Snake off guard. “No, not at all. What makes you think that?”

 

“Well, y’know,” Otacon took his time swallowing his beer, letting himself really ruminate in how bad it tasted. (Sour, disgusting soda. Piss but fermented. Rotted, carbonated apples. He could go on.) “You seem to, uh. Flirt a lot, is all. Thought you, uhm. I dunno, were a thing?”

 

Snake was quiet, and then, so suddenly it made Otacon jump, he laughed. A real, full bodied laugh. Otacon’s face burned, heat spreading down his neck and chest, and breath catching when Snake leaned against him and clapped him--hard--on the shoulder.

 

“No, Hal. No, we aren't dating. I don't think we bat for the same team, anyways.” Snake said, eyes shining, as he took another drink. 

 

“Uh.” Otacon didn't know what was more surprising, finally confirming Mei Ling was a lesbian, the use of his given name, or that this was the first time he’d actually seen Snake laugh. “You-- you used such cheesy lines. God, I knew those couldn't actually work,”

 

“Oh, they definitely work.” Snake said, his smile revealing more teeth.

 

Otacon scoffed. “No they don’t. They’re lame.”

 

“See, Otacon, but they do,” Snake leaned in close, mouth shy of Otacon’s ear. His voice was felt more than heard, lips rough with stubble brushing against Otacon’s skin. “It’s about the delivery,” he growled.

 

And then he was gone. Rounding the couch and doing god knows what, leaving Otacon red faced and frozen on the floor. “You want another beer?” Snake asked, the sound of the cooler cracking open punctuating it.

 

Finally, Otacon snapped to his senses. “Yeah, get me one.” Then he finished the rest of his bottle, and didn't choke it down this time around.


End file.
